


The Green Blur

by In_Much_Stress



Series: Enders and Brines [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anyways, I guess we were all boiling with anger, I hope that mangy mutt is still lurking around, I swear I'm not behind the POV switching, Lotsa people seem to enjoy my tags, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Endermen, Song: The Scarlet Pimpernel (The Scarlet Pimpernel), WELL ANYWAYS, mentioned - Freeform, screeching our lungs out, since every single word in this series is specially for them, slobbering and growling like a rabid dog, unoccupied scoundrel come back here and fuel me more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress
Summary: Dream doesn't enjoy posing as a harmless blind man, nor does he enjoy the memories of a certain General haunting him. He might enjoy the ever mysterious Technoblade's company, but jury's still out.KEEP IN MIND that this was made for us, shippers, and us only and you should not show this to either CC unless given clear and enthusiastic consent. Also, if you're gonna waste your time telling me to stop, I want you to think for a second and go find something to do with your life, because you ain't righteous and you sure ain't protecting anyone, Anti.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Series: Enders and Brines [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946374
Comments: 43
Kudos: 498





	1. This Plucky Non-pareil!

**Author's Note:**

> OwO what's this? A two parter? OwO
> 
> The Scarlet Pimpernel from The Scarlet Pimpernel

“There’s a storm coming… Do you think the Green Blur will be out today?”

“Ha! No man would go out in the middle of the storm, much less a coward who hides behind a stupid name!”

“Oh, you grump pig, you’re just jealous because your days of playing knight are over! The Green Blur will go out if he is needed.”

“When is he ever? A nosy brat, that is what he is! The Iron Golems are already enough.”

Dream would like to differ, but he knows that opening his mouth isn’t going to help any. He’s not supposed to know about the “mysterious hero” more than what the ladies sigh about and the laddies sing about, being the harmless blind traveller. But hearing people talk about him without knowing he is right under their nose never gets old.

It brings old memories of days spent hiding and catching, friends laughing and yelling, warm smiles under warmer sunlight, trees to climb and rivers to swim. Old memories of pranks, holding back wheezes, holding hands to escape together, running from annoyed screeching, huddling together to plan the next grand plan.

And memories of running for his life, of fearing people he loved, of leaving behind his dear General, of the life of a runaway, cold, exhausted and alone.

Alone.

“Enjoying the show?”

The monotone voice immediately catches his attention, and Dream turns his head even if his eyes are firmly shut. He is not about to commit the same mistake twice. He had been lucky no one saw him earlier today. As much as he dislikes having to hinder his vision and lie to all these people, he doesn’t have much of a choice. His eyes would bring attention he’s not ready to face without his mask, and he can’t bring himself to simply make another mask after he left his previous one with his General weeks ago.

But this man,  _ Technoblade,  _ had  _ seen _ his eyes.

Dream isn’t sure what exactly made them meet. He had been minding his business, focusing on getting as many supplies as he could to restart his travels and pondering on what would be the best route to take, until he felt something. Some sort of pull, something inside him insisted in walking a certain direction, and, well, his instincts don’t tend to fail him, so he followed. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find the  _ other _ reason behind the ladies’ sighing, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least introduce himself.

It didn’t hurt, but it did send a jolt of electricity up his arm that startled him enough to open his eyes.

Technoblade is a  _ gorgeous bastard. _

The long pink hair, straight and smooth, cascading down his shoulders and stopping almost at his waist, with bangs framing his face. The unblemished skin looked  _ intouchable.  _ He dressed elegantly, with a very clean white shirt and a cravat. He had the air and appearance of a royal man.

_ And the eyes. _

Oh, beautiful, beautiful eyes of a vibrant crimson, deep and intense.

And hiding something.

Dream can pride himself in many things, one of them being his observation skills. There is something troubling the handsome pinkett, and Dream can tell.

But it doesn’t matter, it’s not his business.

So he smiles at the other man, offering a hand in the general direction of the voice. He feels the same jolt of electricity running under his skin, this time more subsided but still as breathtaking, when a warm hand grabs his cold one.

“Hello, Technoblade. I’m not going to deny it, listening to the people theorize and argue over the mysterious hero is very entertaining.” Dream pulls the hand still holding his. “Come, sit, share a beer with me.”

Whatever is happening with Technoblade is not Dream’s business, but doesn’t mean he won’t poke around a bit.

Resisting his curiosity was never his forte.

“If it’s not a bother…” Techno answers.

Something warm and soft touches the back of Dream’s hand, a familiar sensation. Much like earlier today, Techno’s lips on his skin are a pleasant surprise, the tenderness felt alien from a man with the rough hands of a fighter. Reminds the blond of one General Soot and his rough hands, rough and warm, forged by dedicated training and multiple battles to protect the very nation they helped create, much like their owner.

Dream’s heart squeezes painfully inside his ribcage at the thought of the General. Would Wilbur hold Dream’s hands just as gently for no reason other than to be touching? Would Wilbur bring Dream’s fingers to his lips and kiss them lovingly? Maybe they’d hold hands in secret, under tables and behind their bodies, a little world only for them. Or maybe they would parade around with their fingers tightly intertwined, ignoring the catcalling and joyful teasing from their friends. Maybe Wilbur would pull Dream by the hand into his embrace, or maybe even to a kiss.

Dream craves Wilbur’s kisses every sunset, mind torturing him with memories of the kisses shared between the two lovers in a clearing, witnessed only by the trees.

_ God,  _ he thinks,  _ whatever god that might be listening, take me back home to them and to  _ **_him._ **

“What are you thinking so deeply about, Sonho?” Techno’s voice comes from his left, startling the runaway beck into reality.

He hadn’t noticed when the pinkett let go of his hand to sit besides him. Swallowing the feelings and the memories, he smiles at his newest company, resting both hands on his cane.

“Memories, my friend.”

“Ah, the past is indeed the most terrible ghost.” Dream hears Techno ask the waitress for a beer for him and another round for ‘Sonho’, and he can’t help the chuckling when the girl nervously stutters a confirmation. By the tone of his voice, the blond can only imagine Techno raising a questioning eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re going to make the poor girls around here faint, mister.”

“If only you knew how true those words are.”

And there it is, the implied confirmation of Dream’s suspicions. The way that was worded and entoned makes a shiver go down his back.

It’s not his business, but he can’t help poking.

“Well, aren’t you full of confidence, mr. Blade?” Techno snorts, thanking the waitress as she returns with their drinks. Dream follows his lead, thanking the lady with a smile, before taking a sip. “You’re a traveler, yes? Any interesting tales to tell?”

“If one can consider almost being pushed into lava by a sheep interesting, then yes.”

“A sheep!” He chortles.

“It was a very vicious sheep.”

“Oh, yes, everyone should be very cautious around vicious sheeps. A menace, all of them!”

“I see you are also a seasoned traveler, my friend.” Dream feels a hand pat his shoulder twice and dissolves in wheezing laughter. When he inevitably chokes on his own spit, the same hand gently hits his back. “How are you laughing so much? I’m not that funny.”

“I’m sorry, I just—! A sheep! Shoving you in a lava pit! Oh, the scene is glorious…!”

“Well, it was either the pit or letting it eat my hair.”

“Your hair!”

“Yep. My hair.”

“Doesn’t even look like grass!”

“And let’s hope it stays that way. Can you imagine me with  _ grass hair?  _ Cringe.”

“You’d look so weird! No offense, but green ain’t your color—!” His breath catches when the last word leaves his mouth.

He can feel eyes burning the side of his head, and if he were to open his, he’s sure he’d find two pools of crimson staring at him intensely. Silence befalls between them, tense and charged with something much like the electricity he feels when their flesh touches. A long sigh comes out of Technoblade as the hand resting lightly on the blond’s back makes its way back to his shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to ask, because it isn’t my business…”

“... but you can’t help poking, right?” The words feel bitter on his tongue. “Well, I’m not going to ask you about whatever troubles that mind of yours, so I guess we’ve reached a stalemate.”

Techno snorts again, the hand on Dream’s shoulder finally leaving all together.

“Valid, I guess. Fancy another beer, oh dear goldilocks?”

“Sorry, mr. Blade, but I still have three bears to piss off.”

With that, Dream gets up and leaves.


	2. This Lucky Bloody Swell!

Dream is not known for being needlessly reckless. He knows his skills and his limits, and he has confidence that his trained mind and body won’t simply give up on him.

So when he leaves for the night, he knows he’ll be able to deal with whatever the storm brings. In fact, he’s more than prepared, having felt the storm coming the night before. If anyone asks, he won’t be able to tell them how exactly he knows when a storm is coming. He just  _ does. _ In the middle of the night he’ll wake up with something akin to electricity running under his skin like a disturbing caress, alerting him of the incoming rainfall.

Curiously, the same charged feeling follows him this night as he tears through monsters. Storms always bring out the worst of them, as if the buzzing of lightning and the loud symphonies of the thunder are to them the sweetest lullaby. Creepers are specially attracted to them, and charged creepers are some of the most annoying creatures, because just exploding wasn’t enough, they have to get an explosion that is almost ten times stronger than the usual.

Dream leaps off of the zombie he just ambushed, quickly cutting a skeleton in the middle with a swift movement of his sword. He usually prefers axes for battles, but against so many enemies, a double blade is better. He twirls on his feet, sending monsters away from him, their bodies falling on the ground, the pouring rain quickly washing away the dust they rapidly deteriorate to.

Something hisses behind him, a sound almost too low for him to hear with the sounds of the storm resonating all around him, but he manages to turn just in time to shield himself from the explosion of a creeper with the shield he crafted earlier in the day. The strength of it sends him flying at one of the trees, his back hitting it painfully, making him see stars for a second as he slides down the trunk of the tree, legs momentarily weak. In his disoriented state, a skeleton manages to hit his shoulder with an arrow, sending even more waves of pain through his body.

Damn, that will be a pain to hide tomorrow.

Quite literally.

He’s glad he’s nowhere close to the village, and that the Iron Golems are fully repaired and wandering between the houses. That creeper would have brought a weaker wall down without much trouble, injuring whoever was close to it and exposing the people inside. The mere thought of it makes his blood boil and his resolve harden. He can’t stay in the village for long, he knows Jschlatt is not going to rest until he gets what he wants, and the dear President wants the blonde’s head at all costs. Staying would be far too dangerous for both him and the village, but it doesn’t mean he won’t help as much as possible.

Dream exhales heavily, willing his knees to stabilize as he quickly takes cover behind the trunk of the tree just as another arrow makes its way to where his head had been a second ago. The arrow sticking out of his shoulder is a hassle, and the blonde barely flinches as he pulls it out without much care. Warm blood covers his green shirt—the shirt he only dares wear in the silence of the night—, but he can’t afford to worry about it now, doing a quick job of grabbing one of the bandages he keeps on his pant pockets—a habit he has learned through years of surviving—and covering the injury to the best of his abilities. It hurts to move, and the pouring rain hitting it is not helping, but the man is just as stubborn as the crying sky and readies his sword and shield.

The skeleton that shot him meets its demise soon enough, bones turning into dust and being washed away, empty eye sockets staring at its killer with no emotion.

Dream hears another muffled hissing from behind, but this time he meets the creeper with the sword, iron blade cutting through the green monster with deadly precision, cutting it in half. The creature fades away like the others, however Dream can’t afford to watch it.

Not when he catches a glimpse of pink hair and a diamond sword slaying through the monsters with ease and glee just a few meters away.

“Technoblade.” The pinkett’s name comes out as a whisper, there is no way the other man would be able to hear it.

And yet, he  _ does.  _ Almost as if the raindrops and howling winds carried the blonde’s voice to his ears, Technoblade turns to look at Dream.

No. Not Technoblade.

His red eyes are now of a milky white, irises practically disappearing within the sclera. The smirk he sends in Dream’s direction is disturbing, something born out of sick appreciation and crazed desire. With an elegant twirl, Technoblade—or whatever has gotten a hold of Technoblade’s body—beheads two zombies before approaching the blonde with quick steps. Dream readies his sword as thunder shakes the ground like a beast’s roar, making the creature stop in its tracks.

“Who are you?” He asks, voice steady and low, testing his opponent’s hearing. The way the thing tilts Technoblade’s head as if to signal it understood that it is being spoken to is enough of an answer. “What are you?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, my dear.” The thing purrs, voice sounding like a twisted mix of Technoblade’s monotone and something  _ old.  _ Something  _ dangerous.  _ Shivers run down Dream’s back, and not because of the cold raindrops hitting his skin and clothes.

_ “What are you?” _ He repeats, sword pointed to the creature’s neck. “You’re not Technoblade.”

“No, I am not that puny piglet. I’m twice as alive and tenfold more wicked! I’m the one you’ve been wishing for!”

“Oh, I get it, you’re crazy.” The creature’s eye twitches with Dream’s obvious disregard. “But a crazy  _ what?” _

They stare at each other for a few seconds. The storm rages around them, thunder and lightning singing their duet in an intense and eternal opera.

Dream blinks.

A sword almost takes his head off.

He has no time to do anything but jump out of the way, arm coming up so the diamond blade would be stopped by the shield. The strength of the hit almost sends him down, but he holds his ground, feeling his boots sink in the mud. He pushes the shield with all his strength, quickly sweeping his sword in the creature’s body. The thing jumps back, the mud and water splashing as its feet hit the ground.

“Careful, dear. You don’t want to hurt poor Technoblade’s body too much, now do you?”

“So it  _ is  _ Technoblade’s body.”

The thing smirks again, and for the first time Dream thinks of Technoblade’s face as  _ ugly. _ Cockyness fits the pinkett, but this distorted glee twists his handsome features in something loathsome.

The creature attacks again, Dream blocks its sword again. But this time he doesn’t have the time to retaliate as his enemy starts attacking relentlessly, with enough force for the shield to crack after three blows. Once it does, there is nothing left for Dream to do but dodge and hit back. It’s not as easy as it sounds, for the creature somehow manages to meet all of his attacks, their swords crying with the impact.

Dream is used to fighting for his life. Not even the peaceful years spent in L’Manburg have taken away his battle skills. He has been fighting since much younger, a mere child alone in the world, walking away from a village abandoned by the Gods, and he doubts he’ll ever stop. Fighting is in his blood as much as running is, and sometimes he feels like he is made for both.

But he is still human, as far as he knows, and there is a moment his body finally catches up to that fact.

The fight drags on, and his knees buckle with exhaustion. The fight drags on, and his arms tremble with the effort to move his heavy weapon. The fight drags on, and he can feel his wound open and the warm blood coat his clothes once again. The fight drags on, and his body stutters for a second, the injuries from his previous battle with the monsters, the cold of the raging storm and the desperate effort against his newest enemy pilling up.

One second is all the thing in Technoblade’s body needs.

Blood gushes from the attack it manages to land, a cut on his abdomen that will for sure kill him of blood loss if not treated soon enough.

The creature clearly has no intention to help him, though, and sends the still reeling blonde to the ground with a hard kick on the stomach, right where it had almost cut him open. Dream can’t help the strangled cry that escapes together with a worrying amount of blood from his lips, nor the pained groan when his back hits the floor with a muted tud.

Raindrops fall on his face harshly, washing away the blood with their cold fingers.

A heavy body straddles his. A diamond blade is aimed at his neck. Two blank eyes stare him down with crazed enjoyment, the blade glinting thanks to their glow.

Dream closes his eyes when the sword descends.

He opens them again when the noise of a blade being plunged in the dirt just above his head reaches his ears.

Crimson eyes stare back at him, wide and scared.

Dream’s eyes close again as he is too tired to keep them open.

Raindrops fall on his face gently, kissing his cheeks warmly.

They’re salty.


End file.
